


Lokaljós

by starksnoir



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Angst, Badass Reader, Best Friends, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Mind Control, Implied/Referenced Torture, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Loki (Marvel) Feels, Loki (Marvel) Has Issues, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Mentions of Myth & Folklore, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Past Lives, Personal Growth, Protective Loki (Marvel), Reader's past incarnation was Loki's best friend, Soulmate AU, Trauma, alternate timeline loki
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:29:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26689699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starksnoir/pseuds/starksnoir
Summary: Loki escapes the Avengers using the Tesseract, but it leads him to a barren home planet. After he finds out what happens to it, he relives some of his most beautiful (and painful) memories. The Sorcerer Supreme brings him back to Earth, and he meets a human agent (you!) that looks exactly like his childhood best friend. With your souls intertwined by the Norns themselves, you and your godly companion travel the universe to try and save it.
Relationships: Frigga | Freyja & Loki (Marvel), Loki & Original Character(s), Loki & Reader, Loki & Thor (Marvel), Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Kudos: 4





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, Danny here! The reader is written as gender-neutral and the relationship between you and Loki depends on how you interpret it (can be platonic or romantic). The term “(y/n)” doesn’t appear either. If you want a Loki fic that focuses on his growth, then I hope I can meet your standards with this one. Happy reading!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Each thread the Norns use to weave fate represents a single soul. Some threads can be fragile: a soul so broken that only another soul can mend it.

Fate was the reality all beings within the Nine Realms had to face, even the gods themselves were unable to change how their great lives played out. However, fate was not a single thread, but multiple threads interwoven into a tapestry of life itself. The Norns were the weavers of fate. Their authority over life was unmatched but never biased. The life of one individual was a continuation of the life of their ancestors, and so on, and the Norns never stopped weaving.

Most threads were meant to meet and separate, but there were special instances in which the threads were meant to be intertwined. Sometimes, a thread was so easily broken before its time has come, so the Norns wrapped another around it to mend it and continue weaving. It created a beautiful combination that was much, much harder to cut.

Everything that has ever been, is, and will be are all part of fate. No one can escape death, but some have learned how to foresee the coming events. Seiðr was a form of magic; the art of foretelling. Foretelling was not an easy task to accomplish, even for the most skilled of sorcerers, but it provided the odd comfort of knowledge. The magic itself was the closest a being could get to what the Norns did and it exhausted the body significantly. The weight of the future that has not occurred was weight that crushed mercilessly.

Frigga was the most talented witch of her time, raised by the greatest of Asgard. Odin took her for a wife and she became Queen of Asgard, and raised his two sons. She was one of the few Asgardian practitioners of seiðr and she understood the responsibility she had by simply knowing it. Seiðr was known to be a trademark of the Jötnar, or the giants. They were Asgard’s oldest and most formidable foe; hidden behind the shadows of ice, and instilled dread like frostbite. The Jötnar were not savages. If they were, they would not be considered a threat by the likes of the Æsir. They were the only race left that had control over old magic.

Ancient forms of magic such as that of foretelling died out in every realm but Jotunheim and was scarce in Asgard or even Vanaheim. The Jötnar’s use of seiðr was what helped their kind survive as long as it did. As time passed, the art of foretelling flowed through their veins and it was akin to breathing. The Elders of Jotunheim were a council of the wisest of the giants, and the most powerful users of seiðr. They were able to perfectly see what was to come. They never told what they saw, and instead advised the people to prepare themselves accordingly.

_A child. A jötunn child behind an Asgardian mask. Made to believe he would be king. Overshadowed. Betrayed. Tortured. A prince. A god. Unspeakable horrors. ___

____

_“I never wanted the throne! I only ever wanted to be your equal!”_

The Chief Elder frowned at what he saw.

_A titan. A scepter. He was not in control. Chaos. Destruction._

_“I am Loki of Asgard, and I am burdened with glorious purpose.”_

The giant’s frown faded as he raised his brow in curiosity.

_Magic. A midgardian. A friend. A companion. The light to lead him to redemption. A promise._

_“Don’t worry. Every moment in time, every reality, every universe; I’ll find my way back to you.”_

The Elder smiled fondly.

This might be the most beautiful fate yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy the story! Happy reading


	2. Glimpses of the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki manages to escape the Avengers, but the Tesseract takes him somewhere unexpected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning(s): suicidal thoughts, graphic depictions of violence (including torture and cannibalism), implied mind control

**LOKI'S PERSPECTIVE**

This was starting to get irritating. Thor and Stark were trying to bring me outside of the building, but an older midgardian, along with his group of guards, interrupted us. They started bickering, like midgardians often do, and I couldn’t help but feel annoyed? No, I don’t think that was the right word to describe how I felt. I felt… irritated. 

As I observed their petty argument, my mind seemed to wander. It was rare, but it’d been happening more frequently. Perhaps that’s why they managed to win. I’d have to take note of that. More importantly, if I didn’t find a way out of here, that purple psychopath would hunt me down. He only lended me the Chitauri, and though I hate to admit it, I’d have to be on the run. Norns, I can’t believe I’m actually considering getting imprisoned in Asgard. At least the dungeons were quiet.

I stood there, not able to do anything but watch. I felt like nothing more than an animal, and something, I don’t know what exactly, was urging me to act like one. To see these humans as prey that were mine for the taking. I was still watching, but my mind wandered once more. It didn’t feel like my own thoughts anymore, as if something entirely different plagued my thoughts. Infecting it. Corrupting it.

_“Had it always been this way? What did that madman do to me?”_

Before I could keep asking myself questions I didn’t have an answer to, Stark fell on the ground. It was certainly unexpected, but I was fairly certain that it was the metal contraption in his chest causing his violent reaction. 

_“Hmm…” _I thought._ “I expected more from his technology, though I suppose it was overestimating it.”_

__

Thor used Mjolnir of all things, to save his colleague’s life.

This was ridiculous. 

What was even more ridiculous, was that the briefcase holding the Tesseract, was suddenly pushed away from us, towards an agent who was clearly unfazed by Stark’s predicament. I hadn’t noticed whatever force pushed the briefcase away, but I could catch a glimpse of… a tiny man? It was about the size of an ant, and I wasn’t sure what it was, but it was safe to assume that it was the one responsible. 

_“I could use the Tesseract to teleport away from here.” _I told myself, then that green beast appeared, effectively demolishing the whole wall. He grumbled about taking the stairs, before walking away, but in his unnecessary destruction, he gave me an opportunity that I knew I would take in a heartbeat. The Tesseract popped out of its case, and maybe the Norns have decided to take pity on me, because it slid right next to my feet.__

While Thor and Stark were busy, I picked it up. As soon as I did, I felt the familiar sensation of being sucked into a portal, or a wormhole. Oh, victory tasted so sweet; so sweet until the damned cube teleported me to a wasteland. I fell on the ground with a thud, dust and soil getting in places that weren’t exactly fit for the aforementioned substances. The Tesseract was still in my restrained hands, and I tried to use it to teleport again. It didn’t work. It began to glow brightly, almost blindingly, and it burned before fading back to a dim light. I dropped it since it was useless to keep trying. What idiot would even want it if it doesn’t do what you want it to? 

_“I don’t know if this planet still has inhabitants, and I don’t want to end up as someone’s dinner."_

I took in my surroundings: everything had an orange hue, like it was sucked dry of life, there were strange ships rusting away with the passage of time. There was wind, but it wasn’t like the fresh breeze that I’d grown accustomed to in Asgard, or even in my brief time on Midgard; it was haunting. It felt like someone whispered death into my ear. In that moment, I knew I was the only one here, and if I didn’t find another way to escape, then the only way out was death. 

Inhale. Exhale.

_"I need to get out of here.”_

I picked up the Tesseract and decided to walk since there was no point in moping around in one spot. I didn’t know a lot of things about this planet, like its sun, or how long a day was. I didn’t know things that would be essential for my survival. The ground felt less like soil and more like rock. I couldn’t see any signs of life: no aliens or plants or animals. I was truly alone.

I found myself walking for what felt like hours, but the sky didn’t seem to get any darker. If anything, the orange hue that enveloped the entire planet seemed to turn into a flaming red that reminded me of Muspelheim. When I looked up, all I saw was the vast sky, and this planet’s moon. The moon radiated a soft white glow, and it really stood out. It reminded me of innocence in a world of corruption. It was breathtaking. 

_“Maybe at some point I was like that. Now, I’m just as corrupt as everything else.”_

I continued my journey, not knowing what my destination was. I wasn’t going around in circles, but a line that stretched on to infinity. My thoughts went off on a journey of their own while my body was grounded in reality. My self-induced trance was disrupted when I almost tripped on something sticking out of the hardened soil. I bent down and inspected it: it was off-white, and it felt smooth. I dug my hands into the dirt to get it out, already trying to expect the unexpected. The soil was nearly rock solid, but after a few rounds of trial and error, I got it out. 

It was a skull, or more specifically, a fragment of a skull. I brought it closer to my face, examining every crack, then a head-splitting migraine overtook me. I fell on my knees, not able to hold the sides of my head. When the pain disappeared, my surroundings were completely different. There were buildings, and people. The infrastructure was cold and mechanical, but it was complimented by the abundance of nature. There were wooden bridges over ponds, with modern buildings here and there. 

There were inhabitants. They looked similar to Asgardians and Midgardians. Adults and children alike happily went about their day. Then, I felt that same wind again. It touched the left side of my neck, crawling its way towards my entire body. With the wind, I heard a voice. A voice I would never be able to forget. It was him, but he sounded younger. He sounded like a scientist finding the formula that would solve his greatest problem. He had hope in his voice, but hearing it again only made me think of one thing, and one thing only: suffering.

_"I could’ve done it, Father! I could’ve done it for you! For all of us!”_

_The silence before his response was agony, but deep down, I knew what he was about to say._

_“No, Loki.”_

_I didn’t hear anything else, and I didn’t say anything else. There was no life for me on Asgard, so I let go._

_I’ve always known that the fall doesn’t kill the person, but I never thought the landing would turn me into the monster Odin thought I was._

_I was starting to lose air. I was ready to end it all. I was ready to find the peace I’d been refused my entire life. Maybe in death, there was solace. I waited for it to come, but it never did. Instead, I was given an offer. I was to bring back a precious artifact from Midgard, in exchange for an army that I could rule the planet with. I don’t remember my initial answer, only the fact that I had one, but I remembered the pain. The torture: my skin was raw and bleeding, my lungs burned, I couldn’t breathe._

What happened next was a blur. I remembered a yellow light, and the excruciating pain. It was unbearable. Then, I was on Midgard. Maybe I was. Maybe it was a completely different person that came out after the torment. The memories that flooded my mind after I heard his voice made me feel weak, but with the little strength I had left, I held the skull fragment even tighter, desperate to find answers.

His voice became clearer. 

_“It’s the only way! Wipe them out and save the rest! We can still fight this!” he yelled, a stubbornness in his voice._

_“No! It’s all wrong! You’re wrong! Do you think killing them will help us? In what way— it’s genocide! No matter how you look at it, you’re taking innocent lives!"_

As they spoke, the lively scene in front of me began to deteriorate. Flashes of men, women, and children suffering. Lovers tore their limbs apart for the other to eat. Children ran from the bigger children and even their own parents. The crystal clear ponds soon became blood red. Despite the horrors I saw, I couldn’t look away. I needed to know what happened.

At last, when the suffering had finally come to a halt, a lone man stood amongst the thousands of corpses around him. Even with his back turned, I knew who he was. I would always know who he was. Before he could turn around, I let go of the skull, and I was brought back to the present.

My head hurt and then everything was black.

Before I succumbed to the temptations of unconsciousness, I couldn’t help but wonder how many bodies were buried deep in the ground I was standing on.


	3. Offering to Frigga

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki passes out and becomes a spectator to his own memories.

Loki passed out after seeing what happened to Titan; the toll of magic too great for even his body to bear. Though a skilled sorcerer, he knew his time training with his mother was not enough for him to truly be a powerful one. His ability to see the truth in the things he touches was an ability he hasn’t mastered yet, so it drained him. The things he saw only added to the unforgiving sensation he felt all throughout his body. As everything faded to black, he found solace in his memories as a child: memories with his first and only friend, Gísli. 

**He woke up, cold sweat trickling down his forehead.**

It took some time for his vision to clear up, and when it did, he found himself in the middle of a forest. He noticed his mouth wasn’t muzzled, and his hands were free. He looked down to see his garb was simpler than the one he remembered wearing before he blacked out. It was a sunny day, and rays of light shot through the leaves of trees covering him. He stood up and dusted off the dried leaves and soil that stuck to him. 

Loki was a bit clueless on what to do, but before he could make a solid decision, he heard footsteps. They were light, and from what he could tell, there were two people near him. It sounded familiar. 

“ _That’s impossible… Is it?”_ he thought to himself.

He followed the sound of the footsteps, and parted the bush that was blocking his view. He almost gasped at what he saw.

_“Mother?”_

Frigga smiled at the way the child that couldn’t be older than 10, held so tightly on her skirt. They wore dirty, ragged clothes. Soot sat dangerously close next to the cuts that littered their skin.

“W-what do I call you?” the child asked her, trying to keep warm by hugging themselves.

“You can call me Frigga. What about you, dear? What’s your name?” she replied.

“My… my name is Gísli.”

Loki didn’t know how to feel about seeing them again. It’s been a couple centuries, after all. He knew he was just a spectator to this memory; his mother taught him this. He decided to step out of the bush and get closer to them. He knew his presence wouldn’t be known, but the brief glance Frigga took at his general direction was enough to send shivers down his spine. Nevertheless, she looked back at the child.

“Gisli? That’s a beautiful name.” Frigga complimented. He couldn’t help but agree. Gísli’s eyes were tired, but they managed to give the goddess a small smile. They didn’t know about Frigga’s true identity yet, and Frigga wondered where their parents where. She knew that there was no village or any other settlement near this forest, so how did this child get here?

“Gisli,"—They looked up at the mention of their name—"where are your parents?”

“They’re probably back home,” they whispered. “I think they wanted you to find me.”

Gísli trembled as they spoke, knowing their parents had offered them to this goddess, expecting her to bless their marriage. Loki couldn’t help but feel his disdain for midgardians intensify ever so slightly. 

“Is it true? Are you really a goddess?” they asked, hoping that, at the very least, they had not crossed paths with just some person. 

Frigga pondered their question; if it was wise to reveal her identity to this child, but when she got a good look at them, she knew that they were telling the truth, and that there would be no one around to help except for her. 

With a smile, she answered them, “Yes, I am.”

Gísli’s eyes widened, before retreating to a look of suspicion. 

“Prove it to me… please.”

Frigga chuckled since she surely hadn’t expected them to say that, but she went along with their request. She made sure that no one would be in this forest but her, deeming it safe to do a little magic. She bent down so that she was at eye-level for the child, placing her hands just above the patch of grass at their feet. She hummed and closed her eyes, feeling the familiar warmth enveloping her body and making its way out through her very fingertips. Gísli’s expectant stare turned into a look of wonder as a lovely flower grew from the soil.

He knelt down and just watched them, trying to remember every inch of their image. He missed them so much.

Frigga opened her eyes and chuckled at the state of the child. They reminded him so much of her younger boy, but when she remembered the situation Gísli was in, she began to worry.

“Gísli,"—the child looked at her, still beaming—"do you have a place to stay, dear?”

They shook their head, their wide grin dissipating a little more. The woman ran her hand through their hair, before resting it on their shoulder. 

Frigga didn’t think she would be coming home with a human child that day, but she knew that the Norns brought them together. Even if she can’t protect all the Nine Realms like her husband, she will protect this child. She sighed, troubled. She didn’t know how Odin would react, but she had to do something.

“My lady, can you teach me magic?” Gísli asked. She gasped at their request. “It’s fine if you don’t want to! I… I can find a way back to my village!”

The child panicked, thinking they’d done something wrong. Frigga cupped their face to get their attention. 

“No, no, no, don’t fret, my dear. It’s a rather clever suggestion! Though, you’ll have to come back with me to Asgard. I can take you back to your village if you don’t want to do so.”

Gísli was silent for a moment. Frigga didn’t know why, but she was preparing for rejection. Then, they looked at her with a twinkle in their eyes, before nodding excitedly. She stood up and offered her hand for them to take. 

She looked up at the sky, “Heimdall! Bring us home!”

The colourful beam of the Bifröst appeared from the sky, bringing the goddess and her new student back to the realm of the gods. Loki followed suit. When they arrived, Gísli tried to absorb their new surroundings. They held Frigga’s hand tightly, still in shock. Noticing their distress, Frigga made sure to squeeze their smaller hand back. 

“Welcome home, my Queen,” an unfamiliar man greeted the goddess, and then he turned to the trembling child next to her. “—and hello there, little one." 

Gísli waved back timidly. They took note of the man’s striking features: his gentle expression, his shining golden armour, and lastly, his bright orange eyes. 

Frigga urged her young companion to step forward and spoke enthusiastically, "My dear, this is Heimdall. He is all-seeing and all-hearing. He watches over the Nine Realms, and guards the Bifröst.”

The child’s eyes widened, amazed by the man’s abilities. Heimdall smiled at their reaction. He asked them for their name, to which they responded with a small “it’s Gísli”. Gísli turned to Frigga with a face of worry. 

“Um, what do I call you? Should I call you ‘my Queen’, too?”

Loki chuckled in amusement, _“What a considerate little human."_

Frigga laughed and nodded. "That’s what most call me, so it’s probably what would get you into the least amount of trouble. Before you start calling me that though, do you mind if I give you a quick change of clothing?”

Gísli hummed and instantly felt something similar to a hug. When they looked down, their tattered clothes were gone, replaced by leather pants and a loose cotton shirt; their feet finally protected by actual shoes. They couldn’t even feel the cuts they got from walking around in the forest! They wondered if Frigga treated those too.

They almost cried with tears of joy and gratitude for the goddess, until a handsome black-haired boy called out 'Mother!’. Loki’s amused expression into one of surprise as he watched his younger self approach them. The boy ran to Frigga to give her a hug while Gísli made sure to remember the nature of their relationship. 

"Oh, hello! Who are you?” he held out his hand for them to shake.

“Hi, I’m Gísli." 

The two children smiled at each other. Frigga tried to contain her excitement at the prospect of the two of them becoming good friends. A wave of calm washed over the older Loki, who stood there, absorbing everything. 

"I’m Loki, Prince of Asgard. Usually people call me 'your Highness’ or 'my Prince’ but that’s too long, so you can just call me by my name.” The boy introduced himself, grinning. His new friend giggled.

Frigga urged her son to show Gísli around, which he happily did. Gísli was mesmerised by the beauty of Asgard. Never in a million years did they think they’d ever see anything like it. The asgardians they encountered simply smiled and waved at the young prince and his companion, not knowing he was running around with a human. 

_“How excited we both were to go on many adventures together,_ ” the older Loki remarked. _“I just wish they didn’t leave so soon.”_


End file.
